


Future Shock

by InsaneTrollLogic



Series: CW Impulse Fic [7]
Category: Impulse (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Episode, Episode: s01e15 Out of Time, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneTrollLogic/pseuds/InsaneTrollLogic
Summary: Barry really should have asked Bart why he called Wells 'Evil Grampa'.





	1. Future Shock

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, time to stop circling the Wellsobard plotline. [Plotline follows 1x15. With similar levels of disaster. You have been warned]

Barry’s taken to calling it their normal Tuesdays. Outings to the movies, the museum, go-karts or the arcade. Something to get Bart out and acclimatizing to the twentieth century world. The only thing the kid finds natural about the past is video games, but Barry’s determined to make him try something new.

“Bowling?” Bart asks skeptically. “Can’twejustplayitonwii?”

“Way more satisfying in person,” Barry says. “Trust me on that. Ball return might drive you a little crazy, but the rest of it, it’s pretty great.”

“Sure,” Bart drawls.

Barry chooses to overlook the sarcasm. “Look at that, understandable and normal speed. I didn’t have to prompt you at all.”

“I talk slow at school.” Bart scowls. “Whycan’tItalknormalwhenI’mwithyou?”

“It’s good practice,” Barry answers. “Think of it like your secret identity.”

“You said I’m not allowed a secret identity.”

“Not until you’re eighteen at least.” Barry laughs, wrapping an arm over Bart’s shoulder. “Give bowling a chance, okay? This is one of my favorite places in the world.”

He leads them thorough the flashing neon lights, keeping a hand on either one of Bart’s shoulders. They’ve almost made it to their lane when he hears a voice shout. “Barry! Bart!”

He turns to find Iris grinning at them both, Eddie hovering awkwardly beside her. “Guys’ night?” she asks.

“Thought this might go over better than the museum,” Barry admitted.

“You should join us!”

Barry backpedals. “I don’t think you want us crashing your date.”

“C’mon Barry. You’ve been keeping Bart all to yourself. It’s not every day we get a new part of the family.”

He’s never had much defense when Iris asks for something so he looks sideways and meets Eddie’s eyes instead. “You okay with this too, Eddie? You might have to pull up the bumpers.”

The blond shrugs. “I’ve heard a lot about Bart. It’d be good to finally manage a chance to meet him.”

“Eddie?” Bart asks, looking at Barry. “The one Aunt Iris is dating.”

Barry could kiss the kid for not calling her Grandma Iris. He even managed it at a normal pace. He does some mental calculations. He’s pretty sure he’s got enough to spring for a couple pints of ice cream before heading home tonight if Bart manages to keep this up.

“Eddie Thawne,” Eddie says solemnly crouching in front of Bart and extending a hand.

Bart flinches at the name, but recovers quickly enough to grab the hand and shake. “Bart Allen.”

Barry takes a step closer to Iris, lowers his head and whispers, “If this goes wrong, it’s all on you.”

Iris swats him in the chest. “Eddie’s great with kids.”

But, Barry thinks darkly, Bart isn’t exactly a normal kid.

* * *

Bart _loves_ Eddie.

Ten minutes into the game, he’s already gained the honorific as Uncle Eddie, and Bart spends all of the downtime, chattering in his ear.

“He’s good with him, huh?” Iris says.

“Bart’s a good kid. And Eddie’s good with everything.”

“You don’t have to sound so jealous,” Iris says. “You were the one saying you wanted Bart to get out of your little circle.”

“I know,” Barry grumbles.

Eddie laughs and something Bart says, though Barry would be stunned if he’s managed to pick out one word in seven. After some prompting, Bart twirls away from Eddie’s shoulder, grabs a bright pink bowling ball and heaves it down the lane, nearly slipping onto the greased portion.

The ball hits the bumper four different times, criss-crossing down the lane before finally knocking down every last pin. Bart whoops in joy, and shouts, “Dad! Look!”

Barry catches him as he runs back, twirling him around as the frustration bleeds out of him. “I see, buddy.”

“We’llcatchupsoon!” Bart crows.

Barry snorts with laughter. They’re down a good sixty pins in the eighth frame without even counting the fact that Iris rolled a strike her last time up. “I think you’re right,” he tells Bart. “No one can take the Allens!”

“Big talk, boys,” Iris says, moving to the ball return to take the same bright pink ball that Bart had used. “Let’s see how it holds up.”

“Hold that thought guys,” Eddie says, looking down at his phone. “I’ve got to run, emergency at the morgue.”

He grabs his jacket and kisses Iris on her cheek, leaning over to ruffle Bart’s hair.

Barry watches him go without a word until Bart tugs on his sleeve. “D _a_ d.”

“What? Guys’ night remember.”

“If they’re calling Eddie on their night off, it might be a little bit more pressing,” Iris pushes.

“For the crime lab?”

“No!” Bart chirps. “FortheFlash.”

Iris gives the kid a high five. Barry pines the days when he actually had a secret identity.

“I’ll get Bart home,” Iris says. “Besides, hanging with Aunt Iris is way cooler than a guys’ night anyway.”

Barry knows they’re right. He’d just wanted to hang with the three of them. Bart, Barry and Iris. Almost like a real family.

* * *

He skids to a stop halfway to the morgue, looking over his shoulder like he’s seen a ghost.

Or, you know, the phantom of another Flash.

* * *

It’s well past midnight by the time Barry finally makes it to Iris and Eddie’s place to pick up Bart. Iris answers the door. Barry looks past her shoulder expecting Bart to have destroyed the apartment. “House is still standing,” he jokes. “That’s a good sign.”

“Of course it’s still standing,” Iris answers. “Bart’s asleep on the couch.”

“I swear to god, you work miracles,” Barry says. “Kid never sleeps if he can help it.”

Iris leans against the door frame. “He’s a good kid.”

“The best. But he’s also a twelve year old boy from the future with super speed. Not something I want to dump on an unsuspecting babysitter.”

“You’re lucky you’ve got me then.”

“Well, I’ve always known that.”

“I actually kind of wanted to ask you a question about the whole future thing.” She hesitates for a second. “You know Bart calls Dr. Wells ‘Evil Grampa’ right?”

“You noticed that too, huh? Wells offered to take him in when he got here, but we figured it was probably not the smartest move given the nickname.”

“You ever bothered to ask him _why_ Wells is Evil Grampa?”

“No.” Barry’s brow furrows. “Bart’s from an alternate future. And there’s no way I’m going to start blaming people for something their alternate selves did.”

“And I absolutely agree with you there. I am in no way asking for him to start calling me Grandma Iris again, but my mentor at the paper, Mason Bridge he’s been investigating Harrison Wells. Something about being connected to the murder of Simon Stagg. And well, you know him better than me. Do you think he’s capable of something like that?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Bart literally calls him Evil Grampa. And in Bart’s timeline, you’re still the Flash. Is it really so weird to think that their might be some other similarity?”

“Harrison Wells is a good man. He’s—”

Iris raises a hand to cut him off. “Look, the story aside, I thought I should ask because _your kid_ seems afraid of him.”

Barry forces himself to swallow. He runs a hand through his hair and moves to where Bart is sleeping on the couch, curled up into a ball like he was terrified he would be found. Barry runs a hand over the kid’s shoulder watching as some of the tension leeches from of his spine. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him about it. I should have talked to him about it a long time ago. But Harrison Wells, _this_ Harrison Wells, is not the same person.”

Except the conversation sticks with him even after he hauls Bart back to their apartment and tucks the kid into bed.

* * *

“C’mon,” Cicso mutters to himself looking at the readouts from the night they’d captured the man in yellow. “There’s no way.” He takes an angry bite of his licorice. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Whatchalookingat?”

“Oh my God!” Cisco spins in his chair to find the bright face of Bart Allen peering up at him from under his bangs. “Bart! Okay, we’re putting a bell on you. Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

“Lunchbreak,” Bart says. He leans over Cisco to open his drawer of snacks and pulls out a string of licorice.

“Is that where all my candy’s been going because I’mma tell Barry on you in a heartbeat.”

Bart takes a big bite of licorice and gestures to the screen. “Showme. Icanhelp.”

Cisco turns his chair into Bart’s stomach, positioning his body between the kind and the computer monitor. Bart takes this as an invitation to climb over Cisco and hit the space bar to start the video.

Then he freezes.

It’s scary. The kid hadn’t even been that still when he was shivering in Captain Cold’s trap. The color is gone from his face, his eyes wide. Cisco hits the pause button before the man in yellow abducts and beats Wells. He carefully pries the boy off his back.

“Reverse Flash,” Bart says after a moment. “Daddidn’tletmewatchbefore, butthat’stheReverseFlash”

“Reverse Flash?” Cisco repeats because it’s the only thing said slow enough to understand. “That’s a pretty good name. You trying to steal my thunder, Bart?”

Bart swallows. “He killed my dad.”

“What?” Cisco sputters.

“Not Barry,” Bart corrects.

“That’s not the point… wait, how far in the future are you from? How long do speedsters stick around anyway?” Cisco trails off looking at Bart’s face. “I mean… that’s horrible. Are you okay?”

“Didn’tknowhimverywell,” Bart says. “CanIwatchthevideo?”

“What?”

“Can I watch?” Bart repeats slowly.

“I’m going to go with… _no._ I don’t think that’s healthy. I’m taking you back to class.” Cisco grabs Bart by the shoulder before he can skitter away.

“Youcan’tmakemegoback.”

“But I can absolutely call your father,” Cisco says, punching the button on his watch that sends Barry an emergency alert. Two taps, quick code for _Bart Allen related._

Barry blurs in twenty seconds later. “You,” he says pointing at Bart. “It’s a school day.”

“Lunch,” Bart counters.

“Lunch is literally the best part of the school day. I know it’s weird being with all these kids from the past, but remember how you were working on that secret identity?”

Bart’s eyes widen at the implication. Cisco stomps on Barry’s toe.

“That you’re absolutely not allowed to have until you’re at least eighteen,” Barry finishes.

“Smooth.”

“Whywon’tyoujustletmewatchit?” Bart asks, “Youallkeeptalkingaboutitandyouwon’t _letmeseeit._ ”

Barry meets Cisco’s eyes over the kid’s shoulder, translating before he can ask, “What video is he looking to watch?”

“The man in yellow,” Cisco says, hating the way it makes Barry’s face go pale.

“Ideservetoseeit,” Bart says, turning to Barry. “It’s…”

“You’re right,” Barry says. “We shouldn’t be hiding things from you. Especially when they’re dangerous. Me and Cisco will watch with you, but you have to promise me that if you see him, you’ll run the other way.”

Bart lunges forward to pull Barry into a hug. “Ithinkhekilledmydad,” Bart admits, the words half lost in Barry’s shoulder.

“There’s no way in hell I’ll let him get you,” Barry says. “You can watch, but only if you promise to run when you see him.”

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Cisco says.

“I promise,” Bart mutters.

“Play us the tape, Cisco,” Barry orders.

* * *

“I’m not sure you two made the best move with Bart’s mental health,” Caitlin chastises.

“What were we supposed to do?” Barry moans. “He would have found the tape one way or another. Better we watch it together than him watch it alone.”

“Sorry man, I should have covered better, but I got thrown off when he said Reverse Flash was the one who killed his dad.”

“Reverse Flash?” Caitlin asks. “Did you give him a name?”

“ _Bart_ gave him a name,” Cisco says. “Except I’m pretty sure that Bart just called him a future name. We have to face the fact that maybe, whatever happens, Barry doesn’t manage to take him down in the future either.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Caitlin sat down at her chair, spinning in Cisco’s direction. “Alternate universes by definition play out differently.”

“You know it’s possible Reverse Flash is from the same future that Bart is,” Cisco says thoughtfully. “He may have followed the kid here, drafting or something.”

Barry leaned back against the desk. “Which you are definitely not going to tell him. Because he’ll probably immediately decide that this is his fault.”

“You might be conflating his hero complex with yours here, Barry.” Caitlin says.

“I keep thinking I’m screwing this up.”

“You’re absolutely not.” Caitlin puts a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing well with him.”

Barry’s not sure this can be classified as doing well. Bart’s damaged in ways he recognizes from his own childhood, harder to see because of his natural exuberance, but always lurking just under the surface. Ever since the fireworks on New Year’s Eve, he’d been expecting a minor meltdown. “I wish I could do more.”

“We all wish we could do more for the younger Mr. Allen but I’m afraid we have more pressing issues.” Harrison Wells says, rolling into the room. “In the form of a Mr. Clyde Mardon **.** ”

Barry sags back into his chair. “Right. I should get back to the precinct. Joe seems pretty unconcerned about Mardon gunning for his life and I promised Eddie I’d help keep an eye on him. I really can’t deal with two family crises at once.”

“Considering Joe West is on the front lines of the police force and the younger Mr. Allen safely returned to his classroom for the remainder of the day, I highly suggest you prioritize.”

“Right.” Barry gives himself a small mental shake. “What can we do about Clyde Mardon?”

* * *

Barry slides to a stop in the lobby of the GCPD, Cisco’s wizard’s wand clutched in his hands. 

Around him the storm dissipates. A smile curls around Barry’s face. He wasn’t entirely sure that would work.

Mardon makes his escape and Barry takes a step towards him to follow.

Then he hears Joe’s cry. “Captain!”

* * *

Bart’s asleep on Iris’s couch again by the time he makes it back to pick him up. No real discussion this time, but with Mardon still at large, Barry hadn’t expected much. Unlike last time, Bart stirs when Barry scoops Bart up in his arm, mumbling a sleepy, “You get the bad guy this time?”

“Not yet,” Barry replies. “But he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I can help,” Bart says.

“You can help by not skipping out of school. Even if it’s just lunch time.”

“Is everyone at the police okay?” Bart asks.

“Alive,” Barry says, thinking of Captain Singh unconscious on a hospital bed. “And getting better. We’ll catch him soon. If not the Flash, then Joe and Eddie.”

“I like Uncle Eddie,” Bart says.

“How’d Eddie earn uncle status faster than Cisco and Caitlin?”  Barry asks with a snort of laughter.

He loses Bart’s response in a yawn and Barry knows better than to wake the kid back up if he’s nodded off.

* * *

It’s supposed to be a long shot, an old hideout where Joe West knew the Mardon brothers used to stay. A wild hunch, a chance to confront Mardon on his own before Barry or Iris paid for his perceived crimes. No back up, just him his gun and a quick decision. Eddie shows up to watch his back, but even that feels unnecessary. He’s confident that he knows Mardon well enough to take him down.

Right up until the moment the tornado sucks him out a window.

* * *

Cisco has about an hour before Wells and Caitlin get back to STAR labs.

The combination of Bart’s moniker of ‘Evil Grampa’ and Joe’s past suspicious has him paranoid. And after Bart’s reaction to the video, Cisco owed it to the kid to follow through on any leads with the Reverse Flash. 

Naturally he’s only just started when he gets a call. Unfamiliar number, but it’s a Central City Area code so he picks it up.

“Mr. Ramon,” a formal female voice says. “I’m calling in regards to Bartholomew Allen.”

Cisco pulls his phone back from his ear, stares at it for a moment and then brings it back. “Are you sure that you didn’t mean to call Barry?”

“We tried Mr. Allen several times. Neither he nor the Wests were picking up their phones, but I understand this is a busy time at the police precinct. You were listed as an alternate contact.

Cisco pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is everything all right?”

“Bart never made it to his second class today.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We understand that Bart’s home life has been in upheaval, but this is the third instance of skipping class in the past two weeks.”

“You caught him then?” Cisco asks. “Because this is a whole different conversation if you don’t actually have eyes on him.”

There’s hesitation over the line.

Cisco feels panic well up in his gut. Mardon had threatened Joe and his family. If he’d found an easy target in Bart like Captain Cold had…

“We suspect that he’s left the school’s campus.”

Cisco blows out a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll do my best to get to in touch with Barry. We’ll find him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ramon,” she replies. “I will of course like to have a conversation with Mr. Allen about the repeated incidents--”

“Of course,” Cisco says. “I’ll let him know.”

She disconnects, leaving Cisco cursing as he tugs his laptop from the console. Between Wells and Mardon, he couldn’t have worse timing. He’s going to lowjack the kid if he gets his way, but first he has to confirm that Bart hasn’t snuck into the Impulse costume and leave to help Barry. After that he can probably retask one of the STAR labs satellites to track faster than usual motion, using that to narrow the location down…

From his vantage near the pipeline’s entrance, Bart watches Cisco leave.

 

 

* * *

“Really no a good time, Cisco,” Barry says as he picks up the phone. There are storm clouds building in the distance, Iris clutching at his elbow.

“Bart’s skipping class again,” Cisco says. “They called me.”

“You’re one of the authorized contacts,” Barry says. “You can pick him up, right?”

“I would be totally up for it, except they still can’t find him.”

“Was there any sign of a struggle?” Barry asks.

“No,” Cisco says. “The lady seemed pretty sure that he was just skipping. It’s not like he doesn’t have a history. I figure you do a quick lap of the city. Track him down.”

“I can’t,” Barry says. He sounds distressed. “Mardon has Joe. He wants Iris at the docks. Says he’ll kill Joe if any of the cops show up. If the school doesn’t think this was a kidnapping…”

“I’ll take care of finding him,” Cisco says. “I promise.”

“I owe you Cisco. I owe you big.”

“Save Joe,” Cisco says. “We’ll call it even.”

* * *

Bart tries not to flinch when the hologram bursts into being, he’d known this would happen. Cisco was very good with computers, but Bart was from the future. Bart had _grown up_ in a computer. Even watching a feed on a recorded playback, he could tell a hologram from a person. And the man in the yellow suit, well, he was definitely a hologram.

Bart hadn’t wanted to be right about this. Because if he was right, that meant that Harrison Wells…

“You,” a voice says from the doorway, “are not the person I expected to find here.”

Bart winces with his full body, fingers pausing over the keyboard. He forces himself to stand straighter as he turns around. “You’renotHarrisonWells.”

“No,” Wells says. “No, I supposed you would be the only person in this time who knows exactly who I am.”

“Eobard Thawne,” Bart says.

“It _is_ good to hear that name again.”

“Thenyouaremygrampa.” Bart feels his words accelerating with his nerves. He’d never met his grampa, not properly, but there’d been stories.

(Bart was in the VR when the Don Allen was killed, but the whispers all blamed Thawne, Thawne, Thawne.)

“Maybe,” Thawne concedes. “The timeline’s a tricky thing, worse when you factor in a set of alternate realities such as your own. I must admit, while I had been aware of the possibility of your existence, I had not expected someone of my blood to be so… you.”

He takes a step forward and Bart vibrates back through the computer console, the motion causing the program to restart, the man in yellow blurring back into being behind him.

 “You know.” Thawne advances slowly towards him. “I’ve often wondered how young Mr. Allen managed to adjust so quickly to your presence. Maybe he suffers the misguided notion that you’re a credit to the bloodline rather than a festering sore on an otherwise proud lineage.”

“You’rethemaninyellow,” Bart says. Before today, he’d almost convinced himself that Wells wasn’t the same. That the Thawnes in this world were all people like Eddie. Trustworthy. Good. “Theoneinthevideo. Youkilledmydad.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your father yet, though if he’s anything like you, I’m sure killing him will be a pleasure.”

“Dadsaid…thatyoukilledhismomtoo.”

“That’s true.”

“Why?”

“Because I _hate_ the Flash. He took everything from me. And after I get what I need from him, I will take great satisfaction in removing him from the world.”

Bart lunges for Thawne at top speed only…

For Thawne to sidestep him neatly and shove him to the ground. “Impulsive,” he commented. “Cisco really was spot on with the name. It’s a shame, you hold great potential, but you understand, I can’t let you leave here.”

 _You see the man in yellow,_ Barry’s lecture echoes in his head, _and you run. You don’t fight. You just get away as fast as possible._ It’s the same thing grandma Iris told him in the future. The same thing threading through his few memories of his real father and Aunt Dawn. His entire family were heroes who would never dream of backing down from a fight and they wanted him to _run._

Bart juts his chin out in defiance, raises his fists the same way he’d seen Barry the few times the Flash had been caught on the news.

Thawne laughs. “Oh child, you can try to defeat me if you wish, but know I can kill you without consequence.”

Bart lunges forward at top speed…

Only to be met with a sudden resistance. His breath catches in his throat.

“See,” Thawne continues, “Bart Allen was not even a _footnote_ in history.”

Bart opens his mouth to reply, but instead of words, a wet trail of blood bubbles through his lips. He looks down just as Thawne pulls his vibrating hand out of his chest.

* * *

On the docks at Central City, Barry runs against a wall of water.

And then it’s yesterday.


	2. Past Shock

By the time Barry makes it to Iris’s apartment to pick up Bart, he’s thoroughly unnerved. Harrison Wells had called him out on rupturing the time continuum, warning him not to alter anything but… the tidal wave would have likely destroyed the city. Bart and Iris with it.

Iris opens the door before he can knock. “You just going to stand there like a weirdo all night?”

“Sorry,” he says, grateful for even the briefest deviation from the script. “Bart asleep on the couch?”

“Yeah.” Iris grins. “Best babysitter ever or what?”

Barry lets out a soft huff of laughter. “Bart’s a good kid.”

“Absolutely,” Iris says. “But Barry, have you talked to him about Dr. Wells? Because Bart calls him…”

“Evil Grampa,” Barry finishes in time. “I know. And I will absolutely talk to him about it on a day that hasn’t been so weird, but right now, I need to get some sleep.”

“The thing at the morgue?” Iris asks.

“Ask Eddie about it.” Barry moves to the couch and picks Bart up. The kid’s lighter than he should be for twelve years old. Barry is going to need to get on him about Cisco’s protein bricks again, no matter how much he complained last time. He gives no help at all as Barry hauls him up to his shoulder, grasping for the warmth of the couch. Iris gently pries the pillow and blanket from Bart’s grip. The kid replaces it with a grip on Barry’s shirt.

“Don’t think I won’t,” Iris says with amusement. “Sure you can run carrying someone like that?”

“Getting used to it,” Barry replies and flashes them to his apartment.

He doesn’t tuck Bart into bed when they get home. Instead, Barry nudges the boy awake, watching his sleepy blinks.

Bart yawns. “Dad go ‘way.”

“Need your help on something,” Barry says.

Bart rubs at his eyes. “Does that mean I get to—”

“Not costume related,” Barry cuts in quickly. “Related to how you got here. You know, the future.”

“You saidit was analternateuniverse,” Bart retorts, words gaining speed as he wakes more fully.

“But you were supposed to just hit the past right? Were you supposed to keep things the same? Could you change them?”

“Grandma Iris says I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. If I changed the future too much, it might make it so I didn’t exist.” He fists the sheets with his palm. “I like it here. I don’t want to go away. You promised you wouldn’t make me.”

Barry suddenly _hates_ the people who sent Bart back. Not for their decision to send him, but for everything else, the instructions, the pressure, the abandonment issues. “You never have to go back,” Barry promises. “You know I wouldn’t make you. I just want to know the warnings.”

“Wells wantedtomakeme,” Bart retorts. “Hesaid itwastoodangerous.”

Barry puts a hand on his arm and squeezes. “Breathe,” he says. “It helps to go slow.”

Bart does with huge shuddering gasps. Barry waits him out, but as the kid regains control of himself, he frowns like he’s just puzzled something out. “Wait, why are you asking me about changing things?”

Barry waits for him the make the connection.

The kid pulls back to stare. “Didyoutimetraveltoo?” he screeches. “When?Where?Howfar?”

“Quiet,” Barry chastises. “We can’t have the neighbors hear you.”

“Daaaad,” Bart whines.

“Yes,” Barry says. “On the way to the morgue. About a day. I wasn’t trying to, but something really bad happened and I was running and then it was yesterday. I want to stop what happened. I’m pretty sure I know how to stop it, but Dr. Wells says--”

Bart snorts and then covers his mouth.

Barry frowns flashing back to the repeated day, Bart begging to watch the video with the reverse flash, mumbling _Ithinkhekilledmydad._ “Bart, I know the other Wells, your grandfather did some very bad things, but he’s not…”

“Notthesameperson,” Bart mimics, his voice sliding into something bitter. “Hefeelslikethesameperson. Hemovesthesame, looksatmethesame, saysthe _samekindofthing._ ”

“Bart. Dr. Wells told me that if I try to change what I see, then something even worse could happen.”

Bart frowns. “Howbadwasthethingthathappened?”

“Pretty bad.”

“Sochangeit,” Bart says. “Ifitsavespeople, changeit.”

“What if it makes things worse?” Barry asks. “What if—“

He cuts himself off. Because Iris was at the docks with him. Joe, too. Both of them facing almost certain annihilation. Cisco, Caitlin and Wells all likely at STAR labs with its waterfront view would have also been in danger.

The only way it would have been worse is if he could have lost Bart as well.

“I’m sorry,” Barry says. “I’m not supposed to dump this kind of thing on you. Kind of fails parenting 101.”

Bart leans into Barry’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

* * *

He wakes up hours later, Bart drooling into his chest. He glances at the clock. It’s still too early to be awake, but Bart has managed to whack his nose with a far too sticky hand. He reaches for Barry as he slowly disentangles himself, but accepts the pillow Barry puts in his hands as a replacement.

Wells had promised disaster if Barry acts on his knowledge of the future.

But what could he say to Bart if he doesn’t act? There’d been no disaster when Barry suddenly gained a kid. Why would this be any different?

Would he ever be able to look Bart, Joe, Iris or even Dr. Wells in the eyes again if he _doesn’t_ act?

He’s in his costume before he registers making a decision.

Mardon is in the same hideout where Joe was abducted and he moves too slowly to be a match for Barry when he has the element of surprise. He’s in the pipeline within ten minutes as Cisco voices his praise and Wells gives him nothing but suspicion glances.

Barry pushes down the cowl expecting to feel some measure of unease.

It doesn’t come.

“Mr. Allen,” Wells says. “That was some display today. I wonder if I might talk to you about the specifics.” He taps a hand on the wheelchair, glancing towards Cisco. “Alone?”

“No,” Barry says with a firmness that surprises even himself. “Bart will be waking up for school in about three minutes and I’m going to make him breakfast. Then I’m going to work.”

If Wells is frustrated, he doesn’t let it show. But as he leaves Barry hears Cisco ask, “What’s got under his skin?”

* * *

When he finally gets back to STAR labs, he goes straight to Dr. Wells who immediately tries to launch into a lecture.

Barry cuts him off before he gets the chance. “I’m not here to talk about consequence to the futures. We need to talk about Bart.”

Wells settles in his wheelchair. “I suppose I have the younger Mr. Allen to thank for your carelessness.”

“Believe it or not, Bart has more experience with changing the future than all of us combined. Practical knowledge.”

“He’s a child.”

“That doesn’t make his experiences invalid.” Barry runs a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, but the other Wells. Bart’s actual grandfather? He was bad news. Bart pretty strongly implied that other Wells murdered his father. I’m talking full on supervillain stuff.”

“I would say I can’t imagine myself as a supervillain except I managed to cause a dark matter explosion that created untold numbers of mutations throughout the city.” Wells punctuates his otherwise dry tones with a half-smile. “But while I have many, many faults, I am not the same person who killed Bart’s father.”

“I know,” Barry says. “I’m pretty sure _Bart_ knows, too, but you look exactly like him. Bart might hide it well, but having you constantly around is starting to get to him.”

“What exactly are you asking here, Mr. Allen? There’s not a lot I can do to make myself scarce at STAR labs considering I own the facility.”

“I’m not asking you to leave. And I can definitely try to minimize the time I leave Bart here when I’m out as the Flash. Iris is usually happy take him. But I don’t want you in the room alone with him.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit rash?” Wells asks. “Even if I do bring up… unpleasant memories for the boy, isn’t it best he learn to confront his fears.”

“He’s twelve years old and living in the wrong century. He’s got more than enough to deal with.” Barry falters. “This isn’t about you and me or the Flash. This is about what’s best for Bart.”

“Of course,” Wells relents. “Though I still feel well within my rights to reprimand you about taking advice on changing the future from a twelve year old rather that someone who has devoted their life to the studies of time and space.”

“Lot of time and space involved in that dark matter explosion?”

“I appreciate the attempt at levity, Mr. Allen, but this is not something I will be able to laugh at for a good long while. I can only hope Bart’s version of me doesn’t color your view. Just as I hope one aberrant traveler from another dimension doesn’t make you through caution to the wind with regards to the time stream.”

“I’m not even sure how I managed it the first time,” Barry admits. “But if it helps, I promise not to go again.”

“I suppose that will suffice for now.”

* * *

Barry’s five hours into his Mardon-less shift at work when he gets a call from the school. Bart. Skipping class again. Barry rubs at his eyes, pushes back from his desk and wonders what the hell Bart has against school. Barry was bullied on and off as a kid, but he’d always loved the concept of the place, free access to the library and the wealth of knowledge just waiting to be discovered.

But Bart has attention problems when it comes to anything but running, a complete lack of cultural literacy and no real notion of compulsory education. When he gets bored, he doesn’t start daydreaming like Iris always used to.

No, when Bart gets bored, he leaves.

“I understand your son may have some unresolved issues, but this cannot continue.”

“When can I pick up him?” Barry asks.

“I’m afraid you misunderstand me,” the lady on the line says. “Bart Allen has left the school building.”

“Have you called the police?”

“It was my understanding, Mr. Allen that you work for the police. And my instructions were to call you in this matter.”

“Of course.” Barry runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll bring Bart back as soon as I find him.”

The walk to Captain Singh’s office has become a familiar route. Despite his perpetual tardiness, Barry was rarely called in for reprimand and he didn’t like inviting chit-chat for the inevitable opening to ask about cases still unworked.

Today, he’s struck by the sight of Captain Singh standing to the point where he gapes for almost thirty seconds before Singh asks, “Can I _help_ you, Allen?”

“I just got a call from the school,” Barry recovers. “Bart’s been skipping class. They can’t find him. I told them I’d go.”

“Sounds serious.” Captain Singh settles behind his desk. “Do you want me to put out the notice? I can have a patrol officer near the school check it out.”

“I’m pretty sure I know where he went,” Barry says. “He hasn’t been adjusting well.”

Singh nods. “He’ll get there, Allen. It’s a shock, but he could have done worse for a father than you.”

Tears prick at Barry’s eyes. He’s not sure if it’s the compliment, or the fact that Singh is in front of him whole and alive, or the cumulative stress of a repeated day. He ducks his head to hide it as well as he can. “Thank you, captain.”

“You owe me the Martinez file when you get back,” Singh replies.

* * *

Barry has no idea where Bart might have gone. He’s rapidly catching up to the day’s point of time travel and either there was never a call about Bart skipping school in that timeline or something’s changed enough to cause Bart to run off.

Or worse—someone has taken him.

Is this the disaster Wells was talking about?

Cisco hasn’t seen him, though he’s more than glad for an excuse to skip his brother’s birthday party. He tries Iris next. Then Caitlin, Joe and Eddie. By the time he’s desperate enough to circle back to Wells, he’s worked himself into a mild panic.

“You brought this on yourself,” Wells snaps. “If you had just stuck to the same timeline…”

Barry slams his fist through the glass table at mach one. It shatters into his hand. Caitlin rounds the corner from medical a second later panic in her eyes. Barry doesn’t break Wells’s gaze.

Wells doesn’t blink.

“This isn’t my fault,” Barry says clearly. “And I definitely do not want or need a lecture right now. I want find Bart.”

He looks impassively at his hand and calmly picks out a shard of glass from his palm. The wound is already healing.

“Barry,” Caitlin says. “Let me look at your hand.”

“No,” Barry says, “I’ve got to get to the police station. Officially file a missing persons report. I’m sorry for the table.”

But not sorry for snapping. Since Bart told him about the other Wells…. It’s hard to see anyone else when he looks at the man, a slow building rage mounting with each encounter.

Barry leaves before he can destroy anything else.

* * *

Back at the precinct, he’s on his way to the captain’s office when his desk phone rings. Barry frowns at it for a second and then picks it up in case it’s the school saying they’ve located Bart. “Barry Allen, CSI Division.”

“Mr. Allen,” a familiar voice drawls. “I’m calling to report a crime. A kidnapping, actually.”

Barry’s grip tightens on the phone. “Snart, I swear to God if you’ve touched a hair on that kid’s…”

“I don’t hurt kids. One of the rules. But I do find it very weird that when I suggested you steer the kid away from the hero business that you presented supervillainry as an alternative.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just spotted a very familiar baby Flash kidnapping an upstanding citizen. This is the correct line to call to report a crime, is it not?”

“Where is he?” Bart demands.

“Keystone,” Snart says. “Near the University.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Even I’m not so cold as to—“

“You’re about to rob something, aren’t you?”

“Goodbye, Barry Allen,” Snart sneers. “I suggest you get your house in order.”

The phone call drops. Barry stares at it, cursing himself for not trying to get a trace. Instead, he goes to Joe, who greets him with a warm hand on the back. “Any luck with finding Bart?”

“Still MIA, but I’ve got a lead. In the meantime, you’ll want to make note of any valuables entering Central City. I think Snart’s in town.”

“And you know this… how?”

“Call it a hunch,” Barry says. “I’ve got to go.”

* * *

Bart’s in costume when he finds him. On top of a building actually, grinning broadly, his arm wrapped around a bewildered looking college kid with dark eyes, broad shoulders and close cropped hair. “Kid,” Barry greets, “you are in so much trouble.”

The college kid blinks at the sudden appearance of the Flash. “No way!”

“I didn’t do anything!” Bart says.

“Remember the rule about secret identities?”

“I’mnotallowedtohaveone!” Bart shouts back. “Butyouwerefreakingoutaboutthefuture. AndthisiswhateveryonetoldmetodowhenIgotbackhere.”

“Kidnap some guy!?”

“Totally okay with the kidnapping right now,” the college kid says. “This is seriously the coolest thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m still sorry about my son,” Barry says. “I can take you back to where he found you, or anywhere else you need to go.”

“Seriously.” The guy sounds almost giddy. “Oh, man, I will definitely take you up on that.”

“Dad!” Bart whines. “We need his help.”

“I don’t really know what I can do, but if I can help, count me in.” The guy sticks out a hand. “I’m Wally West.”

Barry sneaks a glance sideways.

Bart’s bouncing on his toes, grin sneaking back onto his face. Barry’s well aware of the instructions Bart got while first running back in time. _Run as fast as you can, find the Flash so he can solve your problem with accelerated aging._

Only for Bart, the Flash wasn’t Barry Allen.

It was Wally West.

Barry shakes Wally’s hand.

He asks Bart, “You’re one hundred percent sure this is the right Wally West?”

Bart frowns. “Maybe. Imean, GrandmaIrisdidsayhehadredhair, butshewassupposedtoaswell, andEvilGrampa’snameisn’tthesamesomaybe…”

“Uh,” Wally asks. “Can I ask about the kid? Because he did kidnap me.”

“He’s from an alternate universe,” Barry says, because with the day he’s had, he does not have the energy to construct the lie. “Apparently you’re the Flash there.”

Wally’s eyes widen. Barry takes the distraction to scoop Barry up and zip him back to Caitlin at STAR labs. She blinks in bewilderment at the kid in her arm as Barry says, “I don’t think he’s hurt, but he is beyond grounded. I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve just got to tie something up.”

He flashes back to the rooftop. Wally yelps as he appears. “You can’t just leave me up here like that!” he says. “Not after dropping a bomb like that. Me? The Flash.”

“Alternate universe,” Barry explains. “Nothing to do with this one. I’ll take you back to campus. Sorry again for the kid. He really means well. It’s not always easy to keep up with him.”

“Kid's alright,” Wally assures him. “Besides if anyone could manage it, it’s you.”

“Thanks.” Barry rubs at the back of his neck. “And if you could maybe not mention this encounter to anyone, I would really appreciate it.”

* * *

Later that night, after Bart is asleep, he gathers Iris, Cisco, Joe and Caitlin at his apartment. Joe is livid after an apparent Snart job with no Flash involvement, but Barry can’t bring himself to care. He taps his toes, resisting the urge to speed into Bart’s room for a quick check on the kid. He’s got the unsettled feeling in his stomach that he’s managed to dodge a bullet.

He starts a little awkwardly, speaking in a voice quiet enough to frustrate Bart if he’s trying to eavesdrop at his bedroom door rather than sleep. “When I found Bart this afternoon, he’d managed to track down a man named Wally West. Someone who we’d all assumed didn’t exist in this universe. I think we may have made a mistake dismissing everything from the kid’s reality as completely different from ours.” He takes a deep breath. “Add that to Iris’s mentor at the paper, and I think we’ve put this off long enough.”

Iris is nodding, and the anger is leaching out of Joe’s frame. Cisco looks resigned, while Caitlin has carefully schooled her reaction from her face. They all see where this is going. They might not all believe it, but they’ll follow him anyway.

Barry asks, “What do we really know about Harrison Wells?”

**Author's Note:**

> [Chapter two is likely but not certain]


End file.
